Nine Percent Chance
by aussiebabe290
Summary: Every girl knew a Jesse Swanson. Every girl had had their heart broken by a Jesse Swanson... except for this one. He was always the one with his heart broken, but not this time. He is not going to let Beca Mitchell walking out affect him. Until he does. And when he does, the world as he knew it won't be the same. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Everyone knew a Jesse Swanson.

Every girl had had their heart broken by a Jesse Swanson.

Tall, dark, handsome- the perfect mix of nerd and hot, the one every girl fell for.

Only this particular kind in the species- the real Jesse Swanson- was the opposite. He was always the one who fell for the girl- head over heels- and was left. He was the one who was left, and it had been the way since he was in seventh grade.

He didn't know why. He didn't think he'd ever know why.

His friends called him a commitment-phobe- never sure enough of the future, never willing to take it that one step further.

When he was younger, he dreamt of the happy ending, just like the ones in the movies. The perfect white wedding, two point five children and a dog, a picket fence. The all American dream.

But before long, he realised the American dream wasn't what he was looking for.

Or what he was going to achieve.

His life was messy- like his bedroom- and nothing at all like he'd imagined it when he was younger.

Eleven year old Jesse had his shit together.

Thirty something year old Jesse did not.

But thirty something year old Jesse owned his own video store- not too far of a cry from his college dream of writing and producing the scores for movies, and he was probably the biggest movie nerd in the world- and employed people and was able to cover the rent, and had a gorgeous girlfriend.

Beca.

Beca Mitchell wasn't an ordinary girl. She was anything but ordinary.

Beca Mitchell was extraordinary.

She was dark and mysterious and smart and funny, and never ever let anyone see her smile.

Until she did.

And it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

She had stumbled upon his store by accident five years earlier, and he made it his mission to charm her.

She had seen straight through him, and dodged every move he made.

She didn't like movies, she said.

(How could anyone not like movies? Not liking movies was like not liking puppies. Beca disliked everything fun in the world.)

She didn't like coffee, she said.

She wasn't interested in dating anyone at the time, she said, because she wanted to focus on her music and get her life into gear, and make it to Los Angeles.

Finally, after six months of turning him down, she gave in. She came to the store once it was shut, and they watched the Breakfast Club, curled up on the futon out the back.

She claimed she hated it. She said she hated it and that she wouldn't watch it again, but he knew her better than that. He saw her eyes light up as Judd Nelson pumped his fist into the air, and he saw her mouth move along to Simple Minds' lyrics.

And eventually, she had admitted it. She liked the music, and it wouldn't be so bad if she had to suffer through it again.

Beca had walls, but Jesse had chipped them away. He broke them down, and one day, it was just the two of them. Beca and Jesse against the world. And they had life worked out.

He didn't remember when she officially moved in- once day, she just never went home, and eventually, all her things made it to his apartment. Their apartment, it was their apartment. Little Beca touches, like the multicoloured spatula in the kitchen and the scratched up muffin tin he kept promising to replace but never did and the well worn cushions to match his well worn couch, and the grey knitted blanket she snuggled up to in the evenings. The box of tampons in the bathroom and the pink toothbrush on the sink (he had never pegged her as having a pink toothbrush, but the girl was a mystery) and the tapes, everywhere. So many cassette tapes, all labelled very carefully with Beca's very neat left handed script.

She let him listen to his music, and it was amazing. She never let anyone listen to her music, and yet she let him.

They had something special, only they didn't see it.

Jesse Swanson was a lot of things. Compulsive list maker, womaniser, movie buff- but he had the world at his feet.

Only he didn't see that.

Jesse Swanson saw the world the way he wanted to see it, and in his eyes, the world was against him.


	2. Chapter 2

"We can work it out, Beca!" Jesse called from the couch, watching as Beca scurried around the lounge room. "We're being stupid".

That was a stupid thing to say.

Beca whirled around, chopping board in hand. "We're beings stupid?" she repeated incredulously. "Did you really just say that?"

"It was just a fight!" he tried again.

He wanted to take every stupid word that fell out of his mouth and shove it back in, but it didn't work like that. It never worked like that.

"Just another fight!" she snapped back. "That's all we've been doing lately!"

She'd been threatening to move out for weeks. A half packed suitcase had been sitting in their hallway since Christmas, and yet, she'd never gone any further than that. They practically lived out of that suitcase, anyway.

Was she really going?

Where would she go?

Would she miss him?

Would he miss her?

"I'm almost done here Jesse, and then I'll be on my way".

Was she really doing that?

"where did you get this from?" she said as an afterthought, holding up one of his worn hoodies- one she had snaffled away two years earlier, her tiny frame shivering the night the furnace died.

"You can keep it", he offered. "Beca- we can work things out!"

"I don't think we can this time!" she stuffed the hoodie into her shoulder bag, glancing around the room. "I think that's everything".

"Your tapes", he said helpfully, holding up a shoebox.

Beca was the one who taught him how to mix music. He was always writing music, but she was the one who could mix it. And over the years, he had made her dozens of tapes, to compliment the hundreds she made for him.

"I think I'll leave them here, if that's okay", she said quietly.

"I made them for you!" he protested. "And some of them- we made them together!"

"I know". She looked down at her shoes- the worn boots that clunked around the apartment,

"The bins go out on Thursday", she reminded him, as if he needed reminding. "And I left a note for you on the fridge".

"We can work this out, Bec!"

"I don't think we can!"

Beca Mitchell was the child of divorce. And not the poster child, either. For years, she was the child stuck in the middle of a messy marriage, her father finally walking out on the family when she was six. He walked out on her and her mother, and straight into a new marriage. He married her stepmonster Sheila (a nickname Sheila had grown to love over the years, when she realised Beca was only half serious) when Beca was ten, and for years Beca found herself flying between Portland, Maine and Atlanta, Georgia.

Beca thought she'd know the signs. She should have known the signs, but she didn't.

She thought she'd know when it was over. She should have known when it was over, when she needed to step back and sort herself out. But she didn't, and that was why they were still fighting.

(That was one of the reasons she'd given Jesse, four and a half years earlier, for not wanting to date him. It was funny how things panned out.)

"Beca", he protested, and Beca lifted up her suitcase.

"Take care of yourself Jess". And she pecked a kiss to his cheek, pushing the door open with her hip. "I'll see you round".

"What the fuck just happened?" Jesse said, falling to the couch. Their couch. "It wasn't meant to end like that. Did she really just walk out the door? Does she really not love me anymore?"

It wasn't meant to end at all. They were Beca and Jesse- they were meant to be Beca and Jesse. They were fun together- they brought out the best in each other. Everyone thought so- everyone couldn't stop saying so.

But that was how his life went. He fell in love, and they left. Granted, he'd had longer with Beca than expected (than anyone expected, if he was honest), but that was exactly how it happened.

How it had been happening since sixth grade.

Jesse was a list maker. He made lists regarding everything- something Beca had found endearing, because she too was a list maker (although her lists were a little more rational than his. Sometimes).

He had a list of the worst breakups he'd ever been through. His all time top five breakups, the girls that had made him the person he was.

When he was in sixth grade, he had fallen in love.

Her name was Ashley, and she was beautiful. And she liked him back, which was the best part. They dated for a total of seven and a half hours.

They dated in a time of innocence, where the most they did was kiss under the bleachers or the slide at their local playground. Every day after school, they would walk to the playground together and spend the next couple of hours kissing under the slide, unsure how to move their relationship along (because they were eleven).

They were together for four days, seven and a half hours in total after school. And then on the fifth day, he arrived at the playground to find her kissing Ben Wellerstein under the slide.

And that was it- the girl that kicked off a lifetime of bad relationships.

In eleventh grade, he had dated Stacie, and fallen head over heels in love with her. He had known her since fourth grade, and she was a good girl. She had always been a good girl- and Jesse thought that he could try something more. She didn't even let him touch her breasts, and he respected that. He backed off, and then she dumped him.

And a week later, he found out that she had given absolutely everything to Jamie Hiatt after school.

Where was the justice in that? How was that fair?

Cynthia Rose had been wonderful. She was normal, and she seemed to like him.

There was only one problem in that relationship.

She didn't like men, and he was a man. That had come as a nasty shock to him, but looking back on it, he shouldn't have been surprised.

Jessica had been a two and a half year college relationship, and he knew that she was out of his league. But they had a good thing happening- until one day, out of the blue, she left him. For the guy in the apartment building opposite theirs.

(She was out of his league, and she knew it. He also knew it, but thought that he could keep that good thing going. Apparently not.)

Aubrey had been a one night stand in the city- the one who was determined to ruin his life. She wanted more, he was happy keeping it the drunken one night stand it had been. Yes, Aubrey was one of a kind. And he was happy to see the back of her blonde head walk out the door.

He thought Beca was different. He was sure Beca was different- but Beca was just like any other girl. Just like any other girl on his list.

"You think you've ruined me?" Jesse said out loud. "If you wanted to do that, Beca Mitchell, you should have gotten to me earlier! We're done, Beca Mitchell. I'm not going to let you walk all over me like the other girls did!"

There was a gentle knock on the door and Beca walked back inside. "Sorry. I forgot my toiletry bag".

"Wait, Beca!" he called after her. "Just stay here. We'll order a pizza and work it out. Beca?"

"Take care of yourself, Jesse". She gave him a sad smile, closing the door behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

Jesse swung the door of the store open, almost jumping in surprise when he saw Benji already standing there.

Benji had been his best friend since college. He was just as big of a dork as Jesse was- well, Benji was more of a dork. He had been there when Jesse first opened the store, and never left. He was the best best friend Jesse could ever ask for, and everything he needed in a co-worker.

Bumper Allen was the opposite. Jesse had advertised once- just the once- and Bumper Allen appeared. And never left.

He was unreliable and never showed up for work before lunchtime, but it had been four years and he'd never asked for a raise, so they kept him around. He was a gigantic pain in Jesse's ass but he was harmless.

If Jesse looked at the finances properly, he really couldn't afford to keep either of them around. But Benji, in much the same boat as Bumper, had never asked for a raise, and despite the company they kept, they were good friends of his. So they stayed.

"Is everything okay?" Benji said timidly, as Jesse dumped his backpack behind the register.

"Yeah buddy, everything's fine". He gave him a weak smile, lifting himself up onto the counter and glancing around at the empty store. "Where's Bumper?"

"It's only ten o'clock", he said helpfully. "We probably won't see him for hours and I don't think he'll bring doughnuts".

"Oh right".

(Bumper thought that bringing a box of doughnuts to the store would make up for him being four and a half hours late to work. Granted, he usually ate half the doughnuts before arriving, but it was the thought that counted. Sometimes.)

"Jesse-" Benji started.

"Beca left", he blurted out after a beat (Benji had known him since college, he didn't keep secrets from Benji. He didn't know how to keep secrets from Benji; he was the one consistency in his life when it fell to shit). "She this morning Benji, I don't know where she's going or when she's coming back- if she's coming back at all. I don't know if this is permanent or not, and I'm a bit freaked out by the whole situation. A lot freaked out. Very freaked out".

"Of course she'll come back!" he said optimistically. "You're Jesse and Beca! You're Jeca- no! You're Jesseca!"

"Oh please God tell me you don't call us Jesseca to people".

"No I never have". He blushed. "I have definitely never done that".

"Good. Please continue not calling us Jesseca".

"I don't know which is worse", he mused. "Jeca or Jesseca".

"Don't tell Bumper I said that".

"Why are you so scared of him?" Jesse wanted to know, squeezing Benji's shoulder encouragingly. "He's a bit of a douchebag, but he's harmless".

"Everyone says he's harmless", Benji corrected. "I have my doubts". He sighed. "Where did Beca go?"

"Where can she go?" Jesse countered. "She can either go to her dad and Sheila's, or she could go to Fat Amy's... I don't think she'll go back to Maine. She wouldn't do that. Would she?"

Benji shrugged. "Would she?"

"No, she wouldn't go to Maine", he said confidently. "That's not something Beca would do. Beca wouldn't do that".

"Can you do me a favour?"

"Sure", Benji shrugged.

"Can you tell Bumper that Beca's gone? I don't want to hear the smugness in his voice".

Bumper had been saying for years that he and Beca wouldn't work out. He had been saying for years that Beca was out of his league (again, true. He didn't know how he had landed a girl as great as Beca was), and that it wouldn't last. Every so often he'd make a snide remark about how he was surprised she was still around, and that Jesse must have put that girl under a spell or something (Jesse wasn't too sure exactly what he said as he didn't listen to most of the things Bumper said).

"You know, Bumper likes Beca", Benji offered.

"I know, I was there at the Christmas party last year". Jesse rolled his eyes. "He couldn't keep his eyes off her. He's just going to say 'I told you so'". He shrugged. "Whatever. Beca and I are ancient history now".

"It happened like twenty minutes ago". Benji shrugged. "I don't know too much about this sort of stuff but I'm pretty sure you need some kind of mourning period or something".

"I promise, I'm fine!" Jesse insisted.

Benji didn't believe him.


	4. Chapter 4

"You gonna be okay?" Benji checked, and Jesse nodded.

"Of course, I'm totally fine", he assured him. "I'm just going to lock up here and go and get something to eat. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye Benj".

"Bye Jess". Benji gave him a smile, waving as he left.

Jesse stared around the empty store, sighing heavily.

He was going home to an empty house, for the first time in four years. It would feel weird.

Yep, it would definitely feel weird.

"Jesse!" an all too familiar Australian accent bellowed and his shoulders slumped.

Fat Amy had been the one to introduce Beca and Jesse. She had been his friend first, but had lived with Beca for a brief period of time after college. She had been the one to see the chemistry the two were obviously ignoring, and the one to blame for Jesse's current situation.

It was always good to have someone to blame.

"Oh good God", he mumbled, sighing heavily. "Hi Amy".

"What did you do to her?" she said simply, holding out a box. "I bought you doughnuts".

"A woman who understands me!" he said dramatically. "Thank you Fat Amy".

"What did you do to her?" she sat down on his chair, glaring at her.

"She didn't tell you?" he wanted to know, carefully selecting the doughnut with the most cinnamon sugar.

"She's being noble". Fat Amy rolled her eyes.

"I used to love that about her", he said through a mouthful of doughnut.

"She's being stupid, and you're being stupider". She glared. "Now I want to hear what you did to her. I'm sick of your shit, Swanson".

"My shit?" he squeaked. "I'm the one who's left, Amy ! I'm always left and you think it's my shit?"

"Look at the common denominator".

"That's harsh".

"No, it's the truth. Do you want me to start naming names?"

"I'd rather you didn't". He swallowed hard. "I'd really rather you didn't".

"I'm starting to think that you were both at fault". She raised an eyebrow. "And if she's not gonna tell me you sure as hell will. You're not as a stubborn as her".

"What?" he startled. "Look, it just didn't work out. It just didn't work out, we were a bad match. Everyone saw it".

"What?" Fat Amy looked at him with wide eyes. "Are you serious? She was good for you! You were good for her. But nope- this is always how it goes!And not even your stupid macho act can hide the fact that you absolutely adore that girl".

"What do you mean, always?" Jesse said, starting on his second donut. "You're acting like this is always how it happens!"

"It is though! You get a good thing going, you move in together and then SHE LEAVES!" she waved her arms around dramatically. "Jesus Christ Swanson, when are you going to change?"

The worst part was, he was exactly the same guy she had met in college. He had always been like that, and it was borderline scary.

"Okay, always is a bit harsh". He glared at the donuts, slamming the box shut. "Did you only come here to offer me deep fried fat and carbs and tell me stories I already know?"

"Do you want me to start naming names?"

"I'd rather swallow glass".

"What did you do to the poor girl?"

"Why do you always assume it's my fault?"

"I'm just going by your history".

"Fuck off Fat Amy- how the fuck has it been MY fault? They all broke up with me! Every one of them!"

"It's a pattern!"

"What pattern?"

"They move in with you, and then you don't do anything, and then she leaves! This is how it's been since college".

"What are you talking about?"

"You know, I really thought Beca would be good for you. I really thought she'd be the one you offer that ring to. God knows you've been harping on about that thing since college". She sighed heavily, jabbing her finger at him. "For someone who so desperately wants to get married, you do a pretty shit job at keeping a relationship afloat".

"Are you finished?"

"Look, if neither of you are gonna tell me what happened, I'm naturally going to assume that you both had something to do with it. And I'm going to judge you the same".

"That's harsh".

"So it was more your fault than it was Beca's?" she pressed. "Or Beca's fault?"

"I don't know whose fault it was, we just stopped working!" he yelled. "Why can't you just choose a side and get it over with? You know you want to!"

"She's not staying with me, if that's what you think".

"I didn't".

(He totally did.)

"If you're just going to stand there and give me shit, Amy, I'm going home", he said after a beat. "Goodnight".

"Jesse?" Fat Amy said, pausing in the doorway.

"What?" he sighed heavily.

"It's your side", she said softly. "I'm on your side, buddy. Because God knows I hate Donald just as much as the rest of them".

He felt the colour drain from his face. "Who's Donald?"

"Goodnight!"

"Who the fuck is Donald?" he bellowed after her.


	5. Chapter 5

Jesse knew who Donald was. He was the guy who used to live above them, the guy who had moved out ten weeks earlier. He had never liked him then, and now he fucking hated him.

"I can't believe Beca's moved on already!" he said in surprise, pouring himself another drink. "With Donald!"

The worst part was the sex. Not with Beca- never with Beca. It was listening to Donald and his numerous conquests upstairs. They were so loud, and it went on forever. He and Beca used to laugh about it together, before throwing things at the ceiling in an effort to quieten them. It was almost funny- a game, of sorts. Jesse and Beca against Donald.

Only now it was Beca and Donald against Jesse, and he didn't like that one bit.

"Donald, of all people!" he rested his head against the worn cushions of the couch. "Donald!"

* * *

"Thanks for letting me stay here Donald", Beca said gratefully, crossing her legs underneath her. "And for- for making dinner".

(She wasn't quite sure what she was about to eat, and if she was honest, she wasn't looking forward to it. She had a lot of issues with a lot of foods and tended to only stick to what she knew. Jesse knew what she ate. What was staring back at her was not what she knew. She was very confident she didn't eat whatever that was.)

"Anytime, Beca!" Donald said in surprise, offering her a fork. "Donald's door is always open".

"Thanks". She took a deep breath, picking up the fork and hovering it above her plate.

She had never had a problem with Donald. He was a nice neighbour, as far as neighbours went. Jesse was the one with the problems.

He was just... different.

He was a bit of a wanker, as far as people went. Even Beca could acknowledge that (shit, she was the most opinionated person she knew. She and Jesse had made quite the team when it came to judging the shit out of people). But he had always been friendly to her, and plenty of nice things to say when they bumped into each other in the hallway.

Beca had no intention of sleeping with him to upset Jesse. If she was honest with herself, she didn't fully know what she was thinking when she knocked on Donald's door with her suitcase. But she did know that Jesse wouldn't go looking for her at Donald's, as opposed to Fat Amy's house or Benji's. He'd probably even find her at her dad's house- but she couldn't go to her dad's house, not with Sheila as sick as she was. He didn't need that stress in his life.

(He'd probably even be able to find her if she flew back to Maine and her mum's basement. Jesse was like that, he knew her too well.)

She didn't know why she chose Donald. But it was comforting, and she wanted that comfort.

"Thanks Donald". She hovered her fork above her plate carefully, not brave enough to actually take a bite. "It means a lot".

He beamed at her. "You're welcome, Beca!"

The conversation slowed, as Donald dug into whatever he had cooked for them, and Beca carefully pushed it around her plate to give the illusion she too was eating.

"What's that noise?" Donald said suddenly, cutting Beca off.

"Sorry Donald, that's my phone", she apologised, jumping up and scurrying over to the side table. "Oh. It's Jesse".

"Don't answer it Beca!" he said in alarm. "You need to cut all ties with Jesse! It's for the best!"

He'd called her eleven times that day (she had no doubt that Fat Amy had spilled the beans and told him where she was. She was entirely unreliable like that), eleven times that she had ignored. She didn't want to talk to him- and even if she did, she wouldn't have known what to say.

Maybe Donald was right.

"Thanks, Donald". She smiled at him and he beamed.

* * *

"She's probably with Donald now!" Jesse almost shrieked, throwing his head back onto the couch cushions.


	6. Chapter 6

Jesse couldn't sleep. He kept tossing and turning, picturing Beca with Donald, and wondering how he could have screwed up the best relationship he had ever had so badly. Every time he opened his eyes he saw the glowing red numbers of the clock by his bedside, and every time he closed his eyes, he saw Beca and Donald.

Was she really into that? Was anyone really into that? Oh God, they were probably having noisy sex and keeping his new neighbours awake.

(Oh Christ, he did not need that image in his head.)

It took him hours to fall asleep, and when he did, it was restless. He tossed and turned and got himself tangled in the blankets, aching for Beca's presence on the other side of the queen sized mattress.

But she wasn't there.

* * *

"Jesse!"

"Beca?" he said in confusion, as Beca opened the door to the apartment and marched inside.

The Beca standing in front of him didn't look like the one he knew. It looked like the girl he had met four and a half years earlier. The same dark eye makeup, the same black boots, and her trademark terrifying ear spike but the Beca from four and a half years earlier was closed off. She wasn't the girl that had walked out of the apartment door three days earlier.

The Beca that had walked out of the door three days earlier didn't wear a leather skirt, and cleavage-revealing spaghetti strapped shirts. That was the Beca he had met four and a half years earlier at the clubs.

"Nope", she said with a smirk, crossing her arms across her chest. "The Beca you used to know. And the Beca you wish you still knew!"

"What are you talking about?"

"you think you're sooooo clever". She jabbed a finger to his chest. "you think you can just move on, don't you? But that's not how it works, Swanson. You think you can just move on, after four and a half years? Well I don't like that. I don't do that. I'm not going to let you".

"What are you talking about?" he repeated, and she pushed him back onto the couch, hands on her hips.

"I'm one of them now".

"One of who?"

There they were. All the girls that had ruined his life and made him the person he was then.

Ashley. Stacie. Cynthia Rose. Jessica. And even fucking crazy Aubrey, the girl who destroyed his life. Standing in his living room, surrounding tiny Beca Mitchell.

"What are they doing here?" he leapt off the couch indignantly, hands on his hips. "When did you- how did you-"

"I'm one of them now. You think you can just forget about me? I'm making the list".

"You can't, there's no room for you on the list!" he protested. "There's only enough room for five. There's only ever enough room for five".

"Oh, there's never any room on your lists". Cynthia Rose rolled her eyes.

"That's just the problem, isn't it Jesse?"

Beca had liked his lists- she was a list writer as well. They were weird and quirky and polar opposites, but somehow they had worked.

Until they didn't.

"You think you can just shut me out?" she wanted to know. "You think you can just watch me walk away and be fine with that? I gave you four years of my life Jesse, and you think I'm just going to walk away?"

"She's not gonna walk away Jesse!" Stacie sang.

Fat Amy had told him once- before they were dating- that Beca was the most emotionally closed off person he'd ever meet. She'd shut out the world, until she didn't. And when she didn't, she was the sweetest, most caring girl he'd ever meet.

He had been lucky to have Beca. He had been so lucky and he didn't even realise.

"We can work it out Bec!" he tried.

"Too late!" she threw her hands in the air, laughing. "I'm as good as you're gonna get Jess, and you royally fucked that one up".

"When are you gonna learn?" Jessica almost sang.

There was a knock at the door, and all seven of them looked at it, waiting for it to open.

"Hello Beca", Donald purred, and Jesse let out a scream.

"What the fuck is happening?" he yelled, as Beca ran across the room to Donald. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Beca leapt into his arms- a very out of character move for her- and wrapped her legs around his waist, and Donald stumbled backwards onto the couch.

Their couch.

The one Jesse had had since college, the one they had watched all the movies on and slept on and had sex on.

Their couch.

Beca was mounting Donald on their couch.

"Noooo!" he bellowed, wanting so badly to cover his eyes but unable to turn away. "Enough! I've seen enough!"

Donald was tugging Beca's shirt off, and she was unbuttoning his pants.

"Have you seen enough?" Ashley wanted to know.

"Nooooooo!" he screamed again, as the other five looked at him in amusement. "Show me no more!"

* * *

"Nooooo!"

Jesse sat bolt upright, breathing heavily.

"Oh thank fuck", he panted. "It was just a dream. Just a dream". He clutched at his heart, trying to control its pounding. He reached for the pillow on Beca's side of the bed, breathing in her scent.

"Congratulations Beca", he said after a minute. "You made the list".


	7. Chapter 7

"I can't believe you dragged me along to this", Jesse sulked, as Bumper hauled him through the door of the club.

"She's hot and you'll love it! It'll take your mind off Beca leaving, anyway".

"She's moved in with Donald".

"What?" Benji's eyes widened.

"Already?" Bumper stared. "What did you do to that poor girl?"

"Can we just- can we just watch?" Jesse said, desperate to change the subject from Beca to the beautiful redhead in front of them. "Who is this girl, anyway?"

"Her name is Chloe Beale", Benji informed them. "An up and coming artist. I thought you'd be interested, you like that sort of stuff".

"It's really more Beca's scene, but whatever".

Beca was all over music. She knew everything- and Jesse was all over movies. Together, they made quite the pair.

Only they weren't together anymore.

* * *

"I'm back!" Fat Amy sang, dumping her keys and advancing into the living room, where Beca was curled up on the couch in her sweats, cradling a mug of tea. "You look pathetic, Beca Mitchell. Are you really going to walk out on Jesse, move in with Donald, hide in my apartment and not tell me what happened?"

"I told you, I don't want to talk about it", she said tiredly, leaning against the arm of the couch. "I just need some space, Amy".

"you keep saying you don't want to talk about it", Fat Amy said, setting a bottle of wine down on her coffee table and sitting down beside Beca, "but-"

"I don't, I really don't. We aren't doing this".

"But I have Boone's Farm and I want to know what happened. So spill your guts, Mitchell. What did he do?"

"No". Beca shook her head firmly. "I'm not going to say anything; you're friends with both of us. It's not fair on Jesse; I'm not going to turn you against him".

Fat Amy stared. "Who the fuck are you and what have you done with the Beca Mitchell I know?" she wanted to know. "Beca Mitchell would never be that restrained. Its concerning. What happened to you? What did he do?"

"I'm not turning you against him".

"Jesse would never be this kind. But, you know, this makes me suspicious", she said, unscrewing the top of the bottle of wine. "It makes me question everything I know about you. And also, it makes me think that you share the blame with him. Am I right?"

Beca was silent.

"because if I am right- and I'm very rarely wrong- and you do share the blame with the nerd, I think shacking up with Donald-"

"I'm not shacking up with Donald!" she protested. "I'm not shacking up with Donald!"

"Shacking up with Donald is pretty beneath you, Flatbutt. How many hours of our lives have we spent making fun of Donald? Are you sleeping with him?"

"Can we stop talking and start drinking?" she set her mug of tea down, motioning towards the wine glasses. "The sooner we get some alcohol into you the sooner we can stop not talking about it".

"It's not good for you", she sang, reaching for the wine glasses. "Seriously, Beca. You and Jesse have fought before, and you've never even considered walking out. I know he can be a douchebag, but he's a good guy".

"He can be", Beca agreed.

"Sometimes. What did he do?"

"Just drop it!" Beca almost begged. "Go and get your cheese plate out or something, you're very good at making cheese plates. Let's eat cheese and listen to some good music, and not talk about Jesse".

"I saw him yesterday".

"You did?"

For most people, Beca kept herself closed off to the world. She was quiet and withdrawn and oh so distant, and let very few people get to know the real her. Fat Amy was one of those people, and had been able to read Beca like a book since college.

"You miss him".

"No I don't".

For the duration of their relationship, they had both been different. Beca was louder, less serious, more fun around him. A nicer person, Fat Amy had said once. Jesse made her a nicer person, and Beca made Jesse calmer, less uptight. They were good for each other; Fat Amy had always said that. That was why it had come as such a shock to the blonde when she received the news that Beca had walked out.

"Beca", Fat Amy said gently.

"He slept with someone else", she blurted out after a full thirty seconds of silence.

"What?" Fat Amy breathed, knocking over the glass and not even blinking.

Beca sighed heavily, biting her bottom lip and furiously blinking away the tears that pricked at the back of her eyes.

"While I was pregnant".

"What?"

(It would have been almost comical, how far Fat Amy's jaw fell, if they were in any other situation in the world.)

"You aren't pregnant".

"No, I'm not pregnant".

"Wait, what?" Fat Amy said helplessly. "Bec-"

"And that pretty much lead directly to me terminating the pregnancy".

"What?" and Fat Amy scooped Beca up in a bear hug, almost losing the smaller girl in her cleavage. Beca beat her shoulder gently, squeaking.

"Boob space! Boob space Amy for the love of God himself!"

Fat Amy released her and Beca gasped for air. "That fucking asshole!"

He hadn't known she was pregnant. She hadn't told him she was pregnant, she was saving that news to surprise him. She had her surprised planned out- very un-Beca Mitchell like, even she saw it and then she found out that he cheated on her.

It was just another fight. They'd been fighting more and more- she didn't know why. She never knew why they did the things they did.

All she knew was they had a good thing going, and their good thing wasn't so good right then.

"And you thought shacking up with Donald was the answer?" Fat Amy said finally.

"I told you, I'm not shacking up with him, I'm just staying with him for a few days! I'm not going to Dad and Sheila's place- they don't need me around- I can't go back to Maine and we both know I can't stay with you because he'd track me down for sure!"

"I'm gonna kill him".

"Fat Amy, no!"

* * *

By the time Chloe Beale had finished singing, Jesse had realised two things.

One, he missed Beca with a burning passion.

And two, he had fallen in love with Chloe Beale.

Things like that happened, he reasoned with himself.

Or at least to him.

"That was great!" Bumper enthused, pulling Benji and Jesse along with him as he went to harass the redhead. "You were really great!"

Benji nodded enthusiastically, and Jesse looked at his feet.

"I've seen you before", Chloe said slowly, furrowing her brow. "Have I seen you here before?"

"My girl- my ex-girlfriend used to DJ here sometimes", he said quietly. "We used to come here all the time".

Everyone saw Fat Amy enter the room- everyone except Jesse, apparently.

She scanned the room, before narrowing her gaze. He was standing next to the counter, making conversation with a gorgeous redhead.

(Oh, not on her watch.)

"You fucking asshole!" Fat Amy punched his chest, and Jesse shrieked, leaping back.

"What was that for?"

"That was for Beca!"

"Oh".

"Yeah, OH". She glared. "You really thought I wasn't going to find out?"

"She told you".

"Yeah, SHE TOLD ME".

"Hi Fat Amy", Benji almost stuttered, having watched the whole interaction.

"Hi Benj!" and she turned on her heels, marching back out of the store.

"Friend of yours?" Chloe said in amusement.

"I have never seen that woman before in my life", he said lamely.

"What did you do to her?" Bumper wanted to know, pulling Benji closer.

"I better go", Chloe said, slipping off the counter. "I can see you've got your own issues to iron out".

And once Chloe was out of the store, he told them everything. Every single stupid thing he did he told to Benji and Bumper, watching their jaws fall lower and lower to the ground.

(He was supposed to be the one who had his shit together. He was supposed to be the one who knew what he was doing.)

He hadn't known Beca was pregnant, because she hadn't told him yet. And she hadn't told him because he told her that he had slept with someone else. And he thought by coming clean to her about sleeping with someone else would make it all okay. He thought that if he got that off his chest, they could work it out.

He had been the one who started the argument, the night before she left. Well, he hadn't started it, but he had sure as fuck ended it. He was the one who made an offhand remark about one day wanting children, and she had burst into tears.

And that was it. The beginning of the end.

 _"What right did you have?"_

 _"It's my kid too!"_

They were the kind of comments that had fallen out of his mouth, as tears ran down her face. The beginning of the end. He wanted to shove every stupid fucking word back into his mouth, only he couldn't do that. That wasn't how things worked.

He slept on the couch that night, and he heard her crying. He didn't know how long she cried- but she fell asleep before he did.

They'd had fights before, but nothing like that one.

And after that one, he knew it wouldn't be the same.

But he never saw Beca walking out on him. He should have, but he didn't.

"You miss her, don't you buddy?" Benji said, patting his shoulder.

"No I don't", he said stubbornly. "We're bad for each other, she's clearly happy shacking up with Donald".

* * *

"You miss him", Fat Amy said, as Beca curled her feet underneath her, hugging a pillow to her chest and cradling her mug of tea. "You want to go home?"

"I do not miss him- and I can't go home", she protested. "I don't even know where home is anymore".

"Home is with Jesse. Home is here. Home is anywhere except with that dickhead Donald".

"I just- you know, after every stupid fight we'd have, we'd sit on the couch? And, like, sulk together?"

"That's the fucking weirdest thing I've ever heard".

They were both hot headed. Fat Amy was sure that there had been slamming doors and screaming across the apartment- not sitting in silence on the same couch.

"I just miss sulking with him, I guess".

"You're a strange little bird, Beca Mitchell". And Fat Amy sighed, leaning over and topping up Beca's abandoned wine glass.


	8. Chapter 8

"Hey!"

"Beca!" Benji said in surprise.

"Where is he?"

"Where is who?"

"Jesse!" Beca roared. "We need to talk, NOW".

"Hi Beca, its lovely to see you!" he beamed saccharinely at her and she glared.

"Don't 'hi Beca' me, are you trying to get me fired? Is that my punishment? Because Jesus Christ that's pathetic even for you".

"What are you talking about?"

Bumper grabbed Benji by the front of his shirt, hauling him around the corner. He held up a video case, covering their faces.

"Oh, this is your plan?" Benji hissed.

"I'd like to see you come up with a better one!" he snapped back.

(Beca and Jesse ignored them.)

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she bellowed, slamming a handful of notes against his chest. "Stop calling me! We know it's you! We aren't idiots!"

He knew if he left her enough messages she'd eventually get sick of him and come to the store. He knew that from experience- it was how he first got her into the store, five years earlier.

"Are you trying to get me fired?" she continued.

"Well it got you here didn't it?" he countered, and her red face turned almost purple with rage.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?"

"That guy is not a smart man", Bumper commented and Benji nodded in agreement.

"We broke up for a reason!" she snapped. "We stopped working! We used to work and now we don't, and we both know why, so just stop!"

"You aren't answering my calls".

'That's because I know its fucking you!"

"I just want to know one thing".

"What?" she snapped, lowering her voice a little when she saw Benji jump?

"Is it better?" he almost whispered, and Bumper and Benji leaned forward to hear what he had to say.

"Is what better?" Beca said, confused.

(She knew exactly what he was asking. But she was going to make him ask outright, because she didn't kiss and tell. And she enjoyed torturing him.)

He blushed. "The sex, I guess".

"I wouldn't know", Beca snapped. "I haven't slept with him yet".

They all watched as Jesse visibly deflated with relief.

(Oh, thank fuck. Thank fucking God. Maybe that night he would get some sleep, knowing that

"We've shared a bed, but we... we haven't done it".

"You haven't?"

"I haven't felt like it!"

"You haven't felt like it?"

"I haven't felt like it!" she repeated.

"One more question".

"Oh, Jesus!"

"What are the chances of us getting back together?"

"Oh", Benji said quietly.

"Like a solid three", Bumper whispered loudly. "Probably less".

"Really?" she widened her eyes at him. "You're really asking that?"

"I just want to know", he almost pleaded.

"The chances of us getting back together", she hummed. "Right now? This very minute?"

"Doesn't have to be this very minute".

"Like... like a nine percent chance".

"Nine", he said with a straight face. "Okay".

"Okay".

"Okay", he repeated, fighting the smile threatening to turn up the corners of his mouth.

"Please stop calling!"

"Okay.

"Goodbye, Jesse". And she marched towards the door.

"Bye Beca!" he almost shouted after her, waving maniacally.

"What are you grinning about?" Benji wanted to know. "She said a nine percent chance. That means it's out of one hundred, which really, isn't wonderful odds. You're acting like that's wonderful".

"You know what that means, Benj?" he grabbed his friend, spinning him around and making Bumper chortle. "It means that nine percent of the time I'm on her mind!"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Bumper wanted to know.

"And she HASN'T slept with Donald!" he whooped. "She hasn't slept with him yet!" he climbed up onto the counter to victory dance. "This is great!"

"The glass is literally only nine percent full", Bumper commented.

"But I'm gonna bring it up to ten!"

"Oh, fuck it", Bumper said in disgust, and he and Benji climbed up on the counter to join him.

"SHE HASN'T SLEPT WITH HIM YET!"

* * *

That night, they went out to celebrate. To celebrate Beca not sleeping with Donald, Jesse said, as he bought them a round of drinks.

("Possibly the weirdest celebration we've ever had", Bumper said. "No, we celebrated you and something about sandals", Benji had corrected, clinking his glass against the others'.)

He was so happy that she hadn't slept with Donald yet that he went home with Chloe Beale.


	9. Chapter 9

Jesse stretched out under the covers, stopping when he felt his foot graze something.

And then the memories of the night before came flooding back.

Oh.

Ohhhhhh.

(Last night hadn't been a dream.)

"How do I do it?" he whispered, almost proudly, to himself, wriggling out from under the blankets and reaching for his sweatpants.

And then he properly registered what had happened.

"Oh, she's gonna kill me. She is gonna murder me. Dead man walking".

He had slept with Chloe Beale. Beautiful, red head Chloe beale.

It hadn't been bad. It had been the opposite of bad, in fact.

But he had slept with Chloe Beale, after swearing black and blue that he wouldn't. After swearing that he had changed, that he wasn't the same guy she met years earlier.

That he wasn't the same guy who had abandoned his pregnant partner of nearly five years.

* * *

"Oh shit", Beca breathed, easing donald's arm off her bare side. "oh shit shit shit shit shit".

She hadn't intended for it to happen. Donald was only to give her a place to stay, a place where Jesse wouldn't find her.

How had she fallen into bed with Donald?

The same Donald that she and Jesse had spent countless nights making fun of, the one they had listened to having sex?

(oh God, his neighbours were probably doing the same thing.)

She sighed heavily, pulling her shorts back on and reaching for her singlet.

(She was a grown ass lady, she was supposed to own cute matching pyjamas. But Jesse hadn't cared, and she was with him for so long that she forgot things like that.)

How had she slept with Donald?

"Morning sweetie!" Donald said brightly, crawling off the mattress and reaching for his pants.

"Morning", she said quietly.

"Do you want to go and get some breakfast?" he checked. "There's that place on the main street, the vegan place? They do amazing pancakes, you like pancakes don't you Beca?"

(She only liked Jesse's pancakes.)

"No thank you", she said. "I've got some stuff to do in the office, I'm thinking I might head in there for the day".

"Suit yourself then!" he blew her a kiss, cheerily trotting out of the room.

"What did I do", she whispered.

* * *

"Morning", Jesse said, as cheerily as he could muster, as Chloe began to stir. "do you want to get some breakfast?"

Chloe looked at him blankly, as if she was trying to work out where she was.

"No", she said simply with a shrug, wriggling out from under the blankets and reaching for the clothes she'd abandoned the night before.

"Oh, okay, I just thought-"

"You're still hung up on that girl", she said simply. "You're still hung up on her, I'm still trying to get over- well, we don't need to get into this. We only did this to forget, but you didn't, did you Jesse?" she stood up, her heels dangling from her hands. "Take care of yourself, Jesse".

He stood there in silence, staring.

What the fuck had just happened?

He had thought Chloe was perfect. Perfectly perfect in every way, everything Beca wasn't. Beca wasn't perfect, she was far from it. She said so herself that she was broken, and that no one had the pieces to put her together.

But oh he had tried. Oh, how fucking hard he had tried.

And then he slept with Chloe.

And she had been right. He had only slept with her in an attempt to forget Beca. Only he couldn't forget Beca, no one could forget Beca.

The apartment was lonely without her. She lit up the room, even with her scowl and heavy eye makeup.

She wasn't perfect, she was far from it.

But she was perfect for him.

* * *

"I can't believe I slept with Donald", Beca said in disgust, shaking her head. "God, out of all the stupid things I could do, I slept with Donald".

She lay back down, before realising what she was doing and climbing off. She moved into the lounge room, onto the brand new couch that wasn't at all what she was used to, and flopping down.

She had only slept with Donald to spite Jesse. To piss Jesse off. To prove a point.

She hated admitting it, and she hated what she had done even more.

Jesse wasn't perfect. And she wasn't perfect either.

But they were perfect together.

"Fuck my life", she uttered.

On paper, they seemed great. Wonderful, even. But even the perfect person had their quirks.

Jesse and Chloe had gotten along so perfectly, and then had nothing to say.

Beca and Donald had been great together- but her teeth kept clenching, and she knew that was not a turn on.

Really, Jesse didn't know Chloe from a bar of soap.

Beca had never spoken more than a dozen words to Donald when they were neighbours.

"I slept with someone", Beca said sadly, pulling the blanket over her shoulders and sighing heavily. "Yippee".

* * *

"I slept with someone", Jesse mumbled, his head on the cushions (Beca's cushions). "Yippee".


	10. Chapter 10

There were so many things he missed about Beca, he realised, as he pottered around the empty apartment, pouring himself a glass of Coke and folding himself up on their worn out couch. Even with her scary piercings and tattoos and dark eye makeup that she wore too often, she had the ability to light up a room.

"A list", he declared suddenly. He had always been a list maker. Alongside fellow list maker Beca, they had made quite the team.

One. He missed the way she smelt, and the way she tasted. It was a mystery of science and chemistry, the way someone else could affect one's senses. He didn't understand it, but he did know that Beca smelt incredibly good.

Two. He missed the way she spoke. Most girls watched their language, but not Beca. She wasn't shy to tell anyone where to go, no matter who they were or where they were from. She swore like a sailor, but knew when to hold her tongue. And he thought that was cool.

Three. He missed her fussy eating habits. For someone who claimed to be open to trying anything, Beca was the fussiest eater he knew ("food issues going back to childhood", she had said on many occasions, using her fork to dissect what creation he had sat in front of her. Admittedly, he was not a good cook, but it always stung just a little). But when she found something she liked, she'd dig in with gusto. Only a few nights before she left, Jesse had made burgers, burgers the size of Beca's head, and she had dug in with such enthusiasm that he hadn't been able to hold in his laughter. Cooking with Beca was one of the most frustrating and yet enjoyable things.

Four. He missed how easy he was able to read her. She was closed off and sullen, but once she opened up to a person, they were in. You were either in out with Beca, there was no in between. Jesse loved that about her- he knew what she was going to say before she said it. At least, he had.

Five. He missed the way her hand fit perfectly into his. Beca was, for the most part, against public displays of affection, but occasionally- very occasionally- would hold his hand. And they fit together perfectly. He missed that- the way she would grab his hand when they were watching a movie, or when the dark became too much.

"Six!" he said out loud.

That wasn't right. His lists were five. There could only ever be five, there were only ever five.

Only six was screaming at him. So he guessed this particular list had to be six.

Six. He missed her sense of humour. Very dry, very sarcastic, very dark- it could also be warm and forgiving. And she had the best laugh of all time, she laughed with her entire body. It was music to his ears- and what had disappeared first, when they started fighting.

Seven. He missed her character. Oh boy, did Beca have character. She was loyal and honest and it sounded like he was describing a damn dog, and she didn't take her moods out on people, not even when she was having a bad day. Or at least she didn't.

Eight. He missed how she walked around without a care in the world- the way she held her head up high and didn't care about what others thought. It wasn't that she didn't care, he corrected, she just wasn't affected. She had the scary piercings and tattoos and wore too much eye makeup and didn't give a fuck what people thought.

Nine. He missed how she used to rub her feet together when she couldn't sleep. She always rubbed them together an equal number of times- because she was quirky like that- and half moaned and it was so cute it killed him. He hated that word, but she was. She was cute.

Ten. He had never made a list with ten before, they were always five. But Beca was special, so he guessed there was a first time for everything.

Ten. He missed the way she smiled when she slept. He loved to watch her sleep- she looked so at peace with the world, like nothing could possibly go wrong. She smiled when she dreamt, and while Jesse didn't know what she was dreaming about, it made him wish that he was there with her.

The top five things he missed about Beca. The top ten things he missed about Beca.

(He could have easily made a list of the top ten things Beca did that drove him absolutely batshit crazy, but that was another story. And what probably got him into his current situation in the first place.)

Oh God, he missed Beca.

Beca had always said she hated the rain- everything that went wrong in her life, happened when it was raining. The day her father walked out on their family it had been raining, the day she broke her wrist it had been raining (admittedly, she'd broken it because she had slipped on wet tiles from the rain), the day she wasn't cast as Annie it had poured (admittedly, it wasn't as significant as perhaps other items on her list, but it had stung) the day her grandmother passed away it was torrential.

Jesse had never made the connection, but he had the same problem.

The day he found Ashley kissing another guy in the park, it was raining. It had started as a drizzle as he walked, and by the time he got there, it was torrential.

The day Stacie Conrad rejected him- and the day that he found out she had slept with someone else (wouldn't let him touch her breasts, but slept with someone else).

The day Cynthia Rose told him she was a lesbian (although he totally should have seen that coming), at a rainy outdoor concert.

The day Aubrey vowed to ruin his life. Basically monsoon weather.

The day Beca had left. He thought he was going to drown, walking in from his car to the video store.

"Why is it always fucking raining?" he bellowed, so loudly that he startled himself.


	11. Chapter 11

"Finally!" Bumper exploded, as Jesse slumped through the door. "I have a great idea to talk to you about".

"No", Jesse said immediately, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it aside.

"Why are you all wet?" Benji wanted to know.

"You haven't even heard my idea", Bumper said instead. It's a great idea and you haven't even considered".

"It'll be like the last idea which I'm pretty sure killed this place!"

"What the fuck crawled up your ass and died?" Bumper griped. "It's a great idea-

"Why are you all wet?" Benji repeated.

"It's another movie night!" Bumper said in delight. "It'll be just as great as the last one we had!"

"We are not having another movie night!"

"Why not? It'll be a great night! We'll play a classic, have great music- Benji can run a lemonade stand or something-"

Much to Jesse's disgust, Benji nodded enthusiastically.

"We are not having another movie night!"

"It's a great idea!"

"We've done this before! It took me three days to clean the store, you ended up banging a random girl behind my counter and who had to console your date? I did".

"It's going to be even better-"

"We aren't doing a movie night!"

"Benji thinks it's a great idea!"

"Why are you all we-"

The three of them stopped in their tracks when they heard the bell- and at who was walking through the door.

"Jesse", Donald said smoothly, and Bumper hauled Benji to the back of the store by the collar.

"Shhhhh!" Bumper hissed, and Benji glared at him.

"I am not even-"

"Shhhhh!"

"Hey man, what's up?" Jesse said smoothly, and Bumper snorted.

"You haven't stopped calling", Donald said pointedly. "You keep calling and you're hanging around outside my house

"I've stopped doing that-"

"You were there this morning". He raised an eyebrow at Jesse's obviously wet clothing and Bumper smacked Benji in the chest, as if Benji couldn't hear the conversation. "Jesse. It's time for you to move on. Beca has".

Before he knew what was happening, he'd raised his fist and punched Donald square in the nose. He stumbled backwards and Bumper and Benji ran forward, throwing themselves down on the ground beside him. But instead of making sure if he was okay, they laid into him.

"Jesse? Did you hear me?"

"Huh?" Jesse blinked, wondering why he was standing in front of him. And not bleeding profusely from the face.

"Beca moved on. It's time for you to move on too". He smiled, patting Jesse on the chest. "You're a good guy, Swanson. We cool?"

They were not cool. They were the opposite of cool.

"Yeah, we're cool". Jesse nodded, his gaze darkening slightly.

Donald turned on his heel, heading towards the front of the store. "good chat, Jesse".

"Good chat", he echoed, and Benji waved Donald out of the store.

"What the fuck?" Bumper mouthed, as Jesse threw himself down face first onto the couch.

* * *

"Pick up pick up pick up", Jesse mumbled, as he paced up and down the counter.

"Jesse!" Beca said, after what seemed like a million years. "I've been really worried about you-"

"There's no need to worry about me, Beca!" he said brightly. He sounded like a lunatic and he knew it, his voice was too high and too fast, but he needed to get the words out before he chickened out (like he had done so many times before). He needed to let go, of Beca. And Ashley. And Stacie. And Cynthia Rose. And even Aubrey, who ruined his life. "It's just me, just letting you know that you and me? We're done. You've made that clear, that's what you wanted. You don't have to worry anymore, whatever this was, well it's over now. You made that clear, you're with Donald now and that's fine! I'm just calling to say goodbye. goodbye and good luck, Beca Mitchell".

"Jesse-"

"Goodbye and good luck". And he quickly hung up the phone before he could say anything else.


	12. Chapter 12

"Jesse". Fat Amy rushed through the door, her face flustered and her breathing heavy. "Jesse, you need to call Beca".

"I've got nothing left to say to her", he said, wiping down the counter. "She's with Donald now, Amy. You know that, you were the one that told me that".

"Jesse-"

"I don't want to hear it Amy".

"Jesse, Sheila died".

Jesse felt all the colour drain from his face and he set his cloth down. "Oh".

"She's a mess", Fat Amy said honestly. "I just got off the phone with her, I'm going to her place now. You need to call her, Jesse. You need to talk to her".

"That might not be the best idea".

Fat Amy narrowed her eyes at him. "Why wouldn't that be a good idea, Swanson?" her voice was dark, eyes menacing.

"Because I called her and told her not to worry about us any more. We're through, we had a good run and she's off living her best life with Donald. Donald was in here today, I know where I stand".

"Oh for fuck sake Jesse!" Fat Amy exploded. "Pick up the fucking phone and call her! Tell her you're sorry to hear about her stepmother's death, ask if there anything you can do! Stop playing the victim card, you bring this shit upon yourself! Not everything is about you! Not everything is about you!"

He stared at her for a minute and Fat Amy straightened her cardigan.

"Fucking. Call. Her", she spat. "Goodnight, Jesse".

Fat Amy had always been the one he went to, the one he'd whined and complained too, and she'd feed him doughnuts and beer and let him whine until she'd had enough and he'd moved on. It was the way they were, and the way they had always been. She'd never walked out on him before.

But there she was, walking out the door.

"Fuck", he spat.


	13. Chapter 13

Jesse hated funerals.

No one liked funerals, but he particularly hated them. He hated the atmosphere, a lot of the people there (he'd only ever been to awkward family funerals), and the general feeling of dread sitting in his stomach whenever the topic was brought up.

And yet he donned his suit and headed to the church, stomach churning at the fact that he would be seeing Beca and her entire family- and a good chunk of the friends they shared.

And Donald.

* * *

The service was beautiful. It was obvious to him how much work Beca had put in- she might have called her the stepmonster, but Jesse knew how much Beca loved and respected Sheila. He found himself crying at her father's speech, and ached to be up in the front row, holding Beca, who was just barely holding it together.

But he didn't. even though every part of him wanted to be up the front with Beca and her family- the family he had grown to love in the five years were together. He stayed up the back until the service was over, waiting for everyone to leave.

"Beca", Jesse said, stepping out. She gave him a tiny smile.

"Hi Jesse".

"I'm so sorry". He reached out to touch her shoulder- a gesture that even the week before he wouldn't have second guessed- before pulling his hand back.

"Thank you for coming".

"I was just-"

"Hiding". She smiled at him and Jesse looked down at his feet, his converse sticking out from underneath his suit pants. He wanted to smile at the worn boots on Beca's feet, but he knew it wasn't the moment.

(It was nice to know that some things would never change- even if everything else in the world had.)

"Beca-"

"Not now, Jesse". She looked tired, physically and mentally exhausted. "Not now".

"How's your dad?" he said instead.

"He's okay". She nodded. "Thank you for being here, Jesse".

"I wouldn't not be here", he said honestly. Despite everything that had happened, he loved her, and knew that she needed support around her, even if it was from him. "How are you, Beca?"

"I'm so tired". And she looked it. Her face was drawn, and the bags under her eyes were bigger than the ones they'd packed to go to Mexico the year before. She'd never felt more exhausted in her life, and she missed Jesse and their stupid tiny apartment, and she wanted to come home. But she still wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of telling him that. At least not at her stepmother's funeral.

"Beca", he said gently. "Out of all the stupid things I've ever done- if I could change just even one- the thing I'd say is sorry. Beca, I am so sorry. For everything I've said and done. I'm so sorry. For letting you down, and letting you go. I'm so sorry".

"Alright, Aunt Amy's here to intervene", Fat Amy announced. "Beca, go and stop Donald doing whatever the hell he is fucking doing. Jesse, what the fuck, mate? Nice shoes, do you two own anything else? Come on, lets go, we need to work this out before he fucks up the world".

Beca glanced down at his feet, almost smiling at the worn Converse on his feet- almost matching her worn boots. "Don't call yourself Aunt Amy".

"Beca", he said quickly, before she left. "Beca, we're having a movie night thing in two weeks, at the store. I'd love it if you could be there". And he shoved a rumpled flier- because Bumper had made fliers- at her.

"Thanks for coming, Jesse". And her lip quivered just slightly as she followed Fat Amy out of the room.


	14. Chapter 14

"She's not coming, Amy!" Jesse paced up and down the counter, anxiously running his fingers though his hair. "I told you she's not coming!"

"just calm the fuck down!" Fat Amy barked, smacking his chest and he jumped back, glaring at her.

"This was your stupid idea, don't know how you talked me into inviting her-"

"You sent her like forty fliers! Girl's gonna get a restraining order!"

Benji trotted over, passing Jesse a red solo cup of lemonade.

"I can't believe you're actually running a lemonade stand", Fat Amy said to him, rolling her eyes.

"I can't believe you have a date!" Bumper bellowed.

Benji blushed red, his whole body radiating heat. "Have you officially met Emily?"

"No, we have no officially. Met. Emily". Bumper glared at him. "So the video store weirdo has a name! she's been hanging around here so much we should have been fucking introduced weeks ago".

(The only girls that ever came into the store were Beca and Fat Amy. The only people that came into the store were Beca and Fat Amy- there were more people in the store than there ever had seen before.)

"Hi, I'm Emily", the tall brunette said, extending a hand towards Jesse.

"Hi Emily", Jesse almost laughed.

"She's a bit of a giraffe", Fat Amy said gruffly. "But you've done good Benji boy".

"Alright, this looks to be about everyone". Bumper looked around. "Let's get this show on the road!"

"There is literally one extra person here".

"And Beca's not here yet".

"I told you she wasn't coming!"

"Jesse, make a speech".

"What the fuck, I'm not making a speech!" he protested. "I see you people every day, there's no need for me to make a speech. The only difference between this and an ordinary movie night is that we're here and not at my apartment".

"Jesse, make a frickin' speech". Fat Amy glared at him.

"I'm not making-"

"Make a fucking speech!" she all but shrieked and Jesse flinched.

"Alright, alright, I'll make a fucking speech". He cleared his throat. "Thank you for hanging around, I see all of you literally every day. Except for you Emily and its lovely to officially meet you. Benji, you've done good, bud".

Fat Amy punched his arm and he flinched.

"Alright, someone just press play".

Jesse couldn't focus. He knew the film by heart and could say the script alongside the actors on the screen, but he couldn't focus.

It didn't feel right watching their movie without Beca.

"Hey Swanson", a familiar voice said quietly, and Jesse snapped his head around to find Beca smiling at him. "Budge up".

"You're here!" Jesse said, trying to downplay his excitement as Beca slid onto the lounge beside him.

"I told Fat Amy I'd be here like a week ago". She raised an eyebrow at him and he exhaled, trying not to laugh.

"That stone-cold bitch".

"That she is", she agreed, glancing across the room. "What the fuck are they doing?"

Fat Amy and Bumper were sharing a beanbag. And a blanket.

"Oh I don't even want to unpack that bag of tricks tonight", Jesse groaned. "What the fuck? Fat Amy and Bumper? That's an imagine I'll never ever be able to get out of my head".

"Thank you for inviting me". She held out the crumpled flier. "I got like forty of these".

"Well, I wanted to make sure you'd come". He shrugged. "Thank you for coming".

"Thank you for inviting me".

"Where's Donald?" he said after a beat.

She laughed. "After the debacle at the funeral… well, Donald isn't around anymore. I've been staying with Fat Amy".

"The fuck-"

"Stone cold bitch", she nodded, almost laughing. "The Breakfast Club, nice. How'd you convince everyone else?"

"They wanted a movie night- I'd only agree if they let me choose the movie". He shrugged. "and I haven't watched The Breakfast Club in a while".

It was their movie. It was the first movie they'd watched together, nestled together on their well-worn couch. Beca hadn't made it all the way through, but he'd woken her for the ending.

"Beca, I miss you", he blurted out. It wasn't the first time he'd said it, and he was sure it wouldn't be the last. He was sick of it- he wanted Beca at home, where she belonged. They were Beca and Jesse. They were Jeca (he hated that name and hated the fact that Benji had ever said it).

"I miss you too", she said quietly, and he leaned back on the couch.

The movie was almost over. Their movie- the one he had convinced her to love, the only movie he had convinced her to love (and he had tried so hard).

"Jesse".

"Beca?" he said hopefully.

"I made a list of all your faults", Beca said and Jesse bit back a chuckle, not sure if she was joking or serious. "It was quite detailed and lengthy too- and when I read it through I missed you. You're- you're like a classic Eagles song. You just can't help but sing along. Even though it sometimes gets annoying too".

He laughed. "I miss you Beca. Its lonely without you at home. And I love him, but Benji isn't nearly as good company as you are".

"I don't know much Jesse, but I know I want to be wherever I can wake up and see you there next to me". She looked down at her hands, at her chipped nail polish and picked over cuticles. "Jesse, I want to come home".

"Beca, come home", he almost begged.

"I wanna come home", she whispered back, learning against him. "I wanna come home".

"Come home". He wrapped his arms around her and as Judd Nelson punched his fist into the air, she slammed her lips against his, a grin creeping onto her face. He wrapped his arms around her and she smiled against his mouth.

"I'm coming home".


End file.
